


My silence is my self-defence

by zeafters



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Denial of Feelings, Derogatory Language, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Luwoo, M/M, Mentioned Mark Lee (NCT), One Shot, i write so much luwoo oh man, swears, throwing rocks at windows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 04:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17114189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeafters/pseuds/zeafters
Summary: Their hands never clasp; they linger in the limbo of holding on and tearing away, and Jungwoo doesn't know which would be worst. Because Yukhei's hand is so rough and cold, but it makes his insides so soft and warm. Because the younger smells of cigarettes and vanilla body wash, and it makes his head spin.





	My silence is my self-defence

   SOMEONE WAS throwing rocks at Jungwoo's window. Now, if he were the manic pixie dream ~~girl~~ boy of a romance movie, he'd probably be making his way over to the window with a hand over his heart and tears welling up in his eyes. The person outside his window would be holding a boombox high over their head, blasting some cheesy ballad, and claiming that they will not give up on their love.

   But of course, Jungwoo's life is not a romantic comedy. There is no boombox, cheesy love song, or proclamations of perseverance; only the goddamned rocks scratching his window. And an occasional swear when, presumably, a rock misses.

   Jungwoo gets out of bed with a frustrated sigh, rubs the sleep out of his eyes, then opens the window above his desk. A rock fortunately falls short of hitting him. He looks down to see who had the audacity to disturb his sleep at 1:56AM on a school night.

   "Yo! Kim Jungwoo!" A boy with tousled hair whisper-shouted. He had arrived in only a mismatched pair of patterned pajamas.

   "Wong-fucking-Yukhei," Jungwoo whispers to himself. "What do you want?"

   "Let me in!"

   Let him in? Was Jungwoo hearing correctly? "Are you kidding me right now?"

   Yukhei giggles as if Jungwoo's disbelief was the most ridiculous thing in the world, "Nah, no joshing here. Please let me in! It's so cold out here."

   "Then go home," the elder replies with an eye roll.

   Yukhei's smile falters slightly at his response and, for a moment, Jungwoo feels a weensy bit guilty. He thinks the boy'll leave, but he doesn't move from his spot and continues talking instead.

   "I would love to..." He starts. "But I kind of, how you say, ran away from my house."

   Jungwoo no longer feels guilty.

   "So whaddya say?"

  _I really shouldn't be doing this_ , Jungwoo thinks when he finally relents and tells Yukhei to climb up. _Doesn't he have other friends?_ He thinks as Yukhei actually scales the side of his house and lunges into his bedroom without a hitch. _I'm so gonna regret this tomorrow_ , he thinks as the two sit side-by-side against the edge of his bed, his starry night comforter wrapped around the both of them to keep them warm.

   "So... Why'd you run away?" Jungwoo asks, hoping his tone sounded as nonjudgmental as he intended it to. Yukhei, for some reason, rests his head onto his shoulder and Jungwoo doesn't know if that's what causes him to stop shivering or if he just isn't cold anymore.

   "My father doesn't really... _Approve_ of my actions," Yukhei says carefully.

   "Well, no offence Yukhei, but I don't think many people would _approve_ of their sons smoking darts and getting into fights almost everyday," Jungwoo jokes. It backfires when Yukhei lifts his head and puts a little more distance between the two of them.

   "Not those actions."

   Jungwoo's confused and he doesn't want to mess up anymore, so he lets the conversation die out. What he wonders about now is when did the two even become so close? They've met outside of school twice for their business project and rarely interact with each other in school, yet here they are, practically cuddling on Jungwoo's bedroom floor. He doesn't understand Yukhei's natural ability to make himself feel at home around everybody. Even more so, he doesn't understand why he chooses to accept it.

   "I don't understand," he voices.

   Yukhei doesn't say anthing. Instead, he slowly, almost cautiously, grabs Jungwoo's hand. He weaves his fingers through the spaces, so lightly that Jungwoo isn't sure if it's his actual hand or the ghost of one. Their hands never clasp; they linger in the limbo of holding on and tearing away, and Jungwoo doesn't know which would be worst. Because Yukhei's hand is so rough and cold, but it makes his insides so soft and warm. Because the younger smells of cigarettes and vanilla body wash, and it makes his head spin.

   Jungwoo stares at their fingers, frozen in between one another, neither boy wanting to be the first to hold on or let go. And that's when he realizes the truth, just like the mystery black eye Yukhei sported on their first meeting for their school project. And as if on cue:

   "I'll go home now," Yukhei says softly. He shrugs the comforter off his shoulders and goes to stand up, which would effectively be letting go.

   So Jungwoo holds on. And Yukhei accepts it.

//

   Yukhei sneaks back into his house at 6AM. After he left Jungwoo's, he spent the night at his good friend Minhyung's. He hadn't planned on going to school the following day, but Mama Lee made it very clear what her rules were: basic necessities provided under the roof so long as you go to school or have a job. So he woke up extra early just to sneak back into his house to grab his school stuff and some spare clothes.

   Unfortunately, he isn't as sneaky as he would've liked to be.

   "Crawling back already, faggot?"


End file.
